Argenta did not usually think herself a fool. Mind over matter, after all–if she believed she was not foolish, then she was not. It was the sort of logic any fatally headstrong ten-year-old would make.
One of the girls had thought to begin talking about Kyle while Argenta was within earshot; and nothing particularly nice, either. Immediately she was in front of the girl–they were at each other’s throats in a minute, talking with their fists within two. To the little blonde, that was nearly commonplace. In the back of her mind she was grateful Kyle wasn’t there to watch; she just wasn’t aware that he really was.